


Saturday Morning Peaches

by Mystical_Knight_Dragon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 10:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystical_Knight_Dragon/pseuds/Mystical_Knight_Dragon
Summary: Ryan is a musical genius who plays and composes his own songs. Ethan plays bass middlingly at best and doesn't understand why such a person would ask him to join his high school garage band. But join he does, if only to harbor his secret crush.





	Saturday Morning Peaches

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2010 and posted it to my Adult Fanfiction account. Keep that in mind when Ethan uses a house phone with an answering machine. How times have changed.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!

It was dark and quiet when Ethan arrived home. He set his bass down by the front door before turning on all the downstairs lights. He turned on the televisions in the living room and in the kitchen before starting dinner.

As he waited for his pot of water to boil, he stared out the window at the snow falling silently on the trees beyond. Even though he and his family moved in almost a year ago, he still wasn’t used to this new house and this new weather. The sounds of the creaks and groans of the old house as well as the wind pushing against the walls made him nervous, continuously thinking someone was trying to break in. He hated being alone in this house.

The sound of water splashing over the sides of his pot brought him back to reality. He quickly turned down the burner and dumped nearly half the water down the drain before setting it back on the stove. Wondering how much food he would need to make, he checked around for notes indicating where his family might be.

_Hey, sweetie! Your father and I are at your grandmother’s. Sorry for the late notice. If this snow keeps up, we might get snowed in—ha ha!_

Ethan didn’t find this particularly amusing.

_Your sister is at a friend’s house for the weekend. They’ll be driving out to New York City to check out NYU. She won’t be back until next week. In the meantime, you’re home alone. Don’t destroy the house while we’re gone—ha ha!_

Ethan still wasn’t amused.

_Take care! Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. XOXO, Mom._

The wind howled at the backdoor, and Ethan jumped. He had never felt afraid in his old house, but then again, what was there to be afraid of in Nebraska? Tornadoes, yeah, but there was usually plenty of warning before one of those popped up. Here, they had bears and burglars and blizzards. Ethan realized he wasn’t too fond of the letter _b_.

Sighing, he began cooking enough spaghetti for a party of one. Tonight, we dine alone. The house phone rang once before clicking to voicemail.

_“Hi, sweetie!” _his mother’s voice rang out across the kitchen. _“I tried your cell phone, but you must have it turned off. I hope you’re not out partying—ha ha! Your father and I just arrived at your grandmother’s, and we might be staying longer than we thought. I didn’t want to mention this on the note, but—”_

Ethan snatched the phone from its resting place and demanded, “What’s wrong with Grandma?”

Ethan’s mom sighed. “Your grandmother tripped going down the stairs and fractured both her wrists. She has both hands in a cast and will need help around the house for awhile. Your father and I will stay here until Grandpa comes back from his business trip in Spain.”

Ethan rummaged through the cabinets for the colander. “How long do you think that will take?”

Several voices mumbled in the background before Ethan’s mom answered. “I don’t know, sweetie. Days? Weeks? Grandma hasn’t been able to get a hold of him because she can’t pick up a phone or write an e-mail with two fractured wrists.”

“Is Grandma gonna be okay?”

“Of course, of course. The Doctor said she should be fully healed in about a month. Also, I don’t know if you saw the note, but your sister will be touring colleges for the next few weeks. Sweetie, I think you’re going to be home alone for most of your Christmas break.”

Ethan sank to the floor, his heart pounding in his chest. They say that the only way to get over your fear is to confront it, and confront it he would. He wondered vaguely if he had remembered to lock the front door and immediately shot up and ran to check.

“Sweetie? You alright?”

“Y—Yeah, Mom. I’m cooking dinner, and my pot started boiling over.”

He sighed in relief when he saw the door was locked.

“I really don’t like leaving you home alone. I know you’re thinking, ‘Mom, I’m sixteen! Don’t worry about me!’ But I’m really worried about you. I told Mrs. Langston to keep an eye out for you, so if you need anything, call her.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

She hung up on her end, and Ethan returned the phone to its cradle. He drained his noodles, coated them in canned spaghetti sauce and mozzarella cheese, and brought it up to his room to eat. He turned on about half the lights upstairs before turning on his computer and digging into his dinner.

He checked his e-mail and saw that Ryan had posted a video of their practice session. A stern note below it said, “Listen, find your mistakes, and learn.”

Ethan chuckled. Ryan was never serious unless music was involved. He could play guitar, piano, bass, and trumpet—not to mention his godly singing voice. When Ethan was first asked into the band and after listening to Ryan play, he almost quit before their first practice session. Ryan’s talent was far greater than Ethan ever thought he could reach, but Ryan insisted he didn’t quit.

“Probably because no one else at our school knows bass,” Ethan mumbled to himself around a mouthful of noodles. He clicked play and listened to their take of an original composition Ryan had claimed to have only thrown together. Where did that boy’s talent end?

Thinking back on that day, Ethan still couldn’t puzzle out why Ryan had approached him in the first place. He wasn’t in any of Ryan’s classes, but on his first day of school, he had mentioned that he played bass. Two to three days later, Ryan had tracked him down in the hallway and practically demanded that Ethan join his band. Almost a week later, Ethan was in Ryan’s garage shaking hands with Brent and October (whose real name was Alfie, so no one blamed him for adopting a nickname). October played lead guitar, Brent played drums, and Ryan sang and played harmony guitar.

“That leaves you, Ethan!” Ryan beamed. “We’re counting on you!”

Finishing his spaghetti, he brought his empty bowl downstairs and put it in the dishwasher. He turned off the downstairs lights and televisions before grabbing his bass and running upstairs. He listened to the practice session once more and jotted down the areas where he needed to improve. Settling down in his beanbag chair, he had plucked the first three chords when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered without glancing at the caller ID.

“Hey, Ethan,” Ryan answered. “You listen to the practice yet?”

“Yeah, I just finished.” Ethan’s stomach tensed when he heard Ryan’s voice, and his lips curled into a smile. “I was just about to start practicing.”

“Great! Listen, today’s practice was great, but you really need to work on your section right after the first chorus. Everything else sounded great.”

Ethan grinned. He wasn’t used to such little criticism. If you messed up anywhere in the song, Ryan would be sure to point it out. He was really keen to “draw out everyone’s potential,” as he claimed. “Thanks, man. I was really into the song today.”

“It showed.” Ethan could hear Ryan’s smile on the other end of the phone. “So, what’s up? How’s your sister?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. Ryan always pretended to have a crush on his sister, and much to Ethan’s chagrin, his sister usually played along. “She’s fine, I guess. She’s at a friend’s house. They’re gonna drive out to NYU later this week and to other colleges.”

“That’s cool. So, it’s just you and your parents?”

“No, actually. They’re at my grandma’s. I’m home alone for a few weeks.” He paused for a moment, suddenly giddy. “You know… I bet we could have practice over here while no one’s here. I mean, no one will bring out cookies like your mom does, but we won’t have to move out of the way when someone pulls in or out of the garage.”

Ryan thought for a moment. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I mean, my place is closer to the school, but that doesn’t matter when we’re on vacation. Besides, I think your house is kind of in the middle of the rest of our houses. Alright! I’ll call Brent and October and tell them about the temporary practice space. We’ll move back to my garage once your parents get back. I know how your mom feels about you being in a band.”

“Alright, and I’ll get back to practicing.”

Ethan lay on his bed much later, remembering his second practice session with Ryan and the others. “So, what’s the name of the band?” he asked. “My mom asked before I realized I didn’t know.”

October shrugged. “We can’t decide. We can barely agree on what style of music to play.”

Brent nodded. “We’ve only been in this band for about a month. It seemed pointless until we could get a bass player.”

“Well,” Ethan queried, “what ideas do you have so far?”

The other three glanced between each other. “We have zero ideas,” Brent finally relented. He grabbed Ethan’s shoulders. “Please! Help us!”

“What’s something you usually do?” October prompted. “Or something you miss from Nebraska? Maybe we can go off that…”

Ethan scratched his chin for a moment, casting about for something, anything. “Saturday morning peaches—”

“What?” Brent interrupted. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh.” Ethan shrugged. “My neighbor had family in Georgia, and they would always send her a crate of peaches about once a month while they were in season. Every Saturday morning, she would bring over four peaches, one for each member of my family. It became habitual during summers to have fresh Georgia peaches every Saturday morning.”

Ryan clapped his hands together sharply, once. “Saturday Morning Peaches we are, then.”

Brent, October, and Ethan began squabbling all at once. “I hate that name!” they each proclaimed.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Well, when you come up with something better, we’ll change the name.”

Ethan pulled his covers up to his chin, remembering that day with a grin. For the rest of practice, they threw out random words and phrases, trying to come up with a better band name than Saturday Morning Peaches, but Ryan continuously turned them down.

Thoughts surrounding Ryan, Ethan began feeling uncomfortable. From the moment he first laid eyes on Ryan, he knew his crush wouldn’t fade easily. His smile, his light muscular frame, his green eyes and messy, jet black hair… There was too much about Ryan not to love. And if dick sizes were directly proportional to musical talent—Ethan giggled, imagining Ryan with a skyscraper for a penis.

His own dick throbbed, asking Ethan’s boxers to move. He shot up in bed suddenly realizing—_no one was home_!

He leapt into his computer chair and double clicked on “My Documents.” Double click for “Ethan,” then “Blah,” then “Ghostbusters,” then “Schoolwork,” then “Taxes.” A final double click on the video file, “darth_vader.mpg.” His boxers flew through the air and landed on his little league participation trophy.

The scene opened on two muscular men having a conversation in a gym. No one else could be seen. They had a small conversation with poor audio quality about who could bench press more weight, which, logically, gave way to a conversation about who had the bigger cock. After whipping out their dicks, the apparent next logical step was to reach out and start stroking the other.

Grinning, Ethan remembered again that no one was home. He went back to the “Taxes” folder and double clicked the video files, “shark_eats_man.mpg,” and “basketball.mpg.” He moved the video players to different sections of the screen so he could see all three playing at once. He clicked past the plot of the second and third videos.

Finally finished with the mouse foreplay, he stroked his dick up and down a few times, loosely, before tightening his hand. The men in the videos were panting and groaning in unison, and Ethan’s strokes sped up. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his torso with his other hand.

Blushing a little, Ethan let his thoughts wander to his favorite fantasy. He imagined Ryan on his knees in front of Ethan’s throbbing cock, grinning. Dream Ryan flicked out his tongue as Ethan’s thumb slid over his head. A gasp escaped his lips, and dream Ryan’s mouth lowered down Ethan’s shaft. Dream Ryan’s tongue caressed Ethan’s head as his lips slid up and down. Ethan arched back further as his hand moved faster and faster.

Ethan’s phone rang, vibrating impatiently on his desk, demanding to be answered. Ethan glared at it and picked up without looking at the caller ID. “What?”

“Sorry?” Ryan sounded concerned at Ethan’s sharp tone.

Ethan’s eyes widened, and he quickly hit “mute.” “Ah, sorry… My caller ID’s broken. I didn’t know who you were.”

“Oh.” Ethan’s dick twitched at the sound of Ryan’s voice, and he bit his tongue against the moan threatening to escape his throat. “So… Are you busy? I thought I heard something when you first picked up.”

“Just watching a movie,” Ethan answered. He stared, aghast, as his hand moved back to his dick and began stroking.

“Which movie?”

Ethan’s mind was cloudy, and he couldn’t think of a scapegoat. “Fuck,” he hissed as he orgasmed.

“Ah.” Ryan’s grin shone through his voice. “A dirty movie, then? I’ll let you continue, then.”

Eyes closed, mortified, Ethan grabbed a handful of tissues. “It just…finished.”

Ryan was as quiet as he could be as he tried to stifle his giggles. “It did, huh?” A laugh escaped his lips.

“Ugh, shut up. I’m home alone. What else am I supposed to do?”

Ryan chuckled a few more times before finally getting around to why he called. “Oh, right. The band’s coming over at noon. In the morning, would you make sure you’re, ah, roused and awake?”

“…Are you done?”

“No, I’m trying to think of some way to put ‘cock’ in there. I guess three innuendos is enough for now.”

“Shut up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“All right, see you tomorrow. I’m gonna go jerk off now.”

Ryan hung up, and Ethan stared open-mouthed at the phone. After getting over his shock, he let out a yell. “I can’t believe I fucking came when I was on the phone with Ryan! I’ve never been so fucking embarrassed!” He dropped back on his bed and covered his face with his hands. “I even picked up the phone without muting the porn… My life is over!”

Ethan was in the kitchen making breakfast in his pajama pants around 11 AM the next morning when the doorbell rang. Forgetting for a moment that he was home alone, he expected his mom to answer the door and finally remembered he was the only one home when the bell rang a second time. He moved his skillet to an unlit burner and went to answer the door.

Ryan waved through the window beside the door. He was wearing a thick jacket, and Ethan shivered when he opened the door, the cold winter wind blowing through the house.

“What are you doing here so early?” Ethan accused. “You said noon! I haven’t even eaten yet.”

Ryan stepped through the doorway and removed his jacket. “I was taking a walk and decided to just walk over here.” He sniffed the air several times before walking toward the kitchen. “It smells great in here. What are you making?”

Ethan hung up Ryan’s coat on the coat rack before following his friend into the kitchen. “Just some eggs and toast. Want some?”

“Yes, please!” Ryan’s hand shot straight into the air, his smile taking up most of his face.

While Ethan finished cooking breakfast for two, Ryan meandered back to the foyer to remove the rest of his winter clothing. By the time he had finished, Ethan was placing two plates of fried eggs and toast onto the kitchen table.

“This looks delicious,” Ryan complimented. “You start eating, and I’ll get us some juice. You got OJ?”

Ethan pulled the orange juice out of the fridge as well as grape jelly, strawberry jelly, and butter. He slathered strawberry jelly on his pieces of toast before accepting his glass of orange juice from Ryan.

They ate in mostly silence. Ryan had a far-off look in his eyes, and his foot was tapping continuously on the floor. Ethan recognized it as the drum solo in one of the new songs Ryan was composing before realizing that he himself was subconsciously strumming the bass part along to the drum solo.

Ryan glanced up and laughed. “Ha, sorry. The song’s not even finished, and you’re already practicing.”

Ethan smiled. “It’s really good. I can’t wait for the lyrics.”

“Really?” Ryan rested his chin on his hand, his grin lopsided and lazy. “It’s a love song, you know. I wrote it for someone very special. It should be finished in a day or two.” He yawned suddenly, stretching his arms upward. “Look, you go get dressed, and I’ll do the dishes.”

Ethan nodded and stood from the table. He was glad Ryan wasn’t following him up the stairs. It would have been embarrassing if Ryan had seen that Ethan had already set out an outfit for today. He slipped on dark skinny jeans and a white, long sleeved T-shirt with a gold pattern etched across his left side. Pausing by his dresser, he put in his lip ring, then grabbed his bass and headed downstairs.

Ryan was just finishing cleaning up when Ethan came back downstairs. “You know what I was just thinking?” he asked. “I realized I never watch porn if they include music, and the score isn’t any good. Imagine that! Instead of looking at the scoring, I’m thinking about the score!”

Ethan rolled his eyes but was saved from answering by the doorbell. When he opened the door, October and Brent barreled through shouting to close the door.

“What?”

“It’s freezing out there!” Brent called out. “Turn on the fireplace!”

“Let’s practice inside,” October whined.

Ryan poked his head into the living room where Ethan was trying to start the fire. “Brent, where are your drums? October, where’s your guitar?”

The two shivered. “In the car,” Brent answered. “Don’t make me go out there just yet! It’s so cold!”

“I need to leave here by four,” October chimed. “Otherwise, I’m gonna get stuck here. There’s a snowstorm coming. We’re supposed to get three feet of snow tonight.”

Ethan tensed. There was a possibility of getting snowed in, _and _he was home alone? What if he lost power? Was there enough food in the pantry? What if he starved to death? He sat down on the couch, light-headed. There was no point worrying about it, he told himself, but that didn’t stop the trembling.

Ryan grabbed his thick jacket and bundled up. “I’ll go out and get your instruments. Unlock the car.”

“Can’t we skip practice for today?” October whined. “We practiced yesterday. We never practice two days in a row…”

“Well, you sounded awful at practice yesterday,” Ryan snapped.

Brent rolled his eyes. “No, we didn’t. I listened to the clip, and we sounded the best we’ve ever sounded. And you called me and told me we sounded great!”

Ryan was suddenly pouting. “But—But… I want to play my guitar, and I don’t want to play alone… And we’re all already here…”

“I’ll get my bass and play with you,” Ethan finally relented. “It really is cold outside, so we’ll probably spend more time tuning than actual playing. Besides, you can help me work on my solos. When I was practicing the other day, they sounded a little off.”

It was a very laid back practice session compared to the rigorous practice Ryan usually pushed them through. Ryan seemed very distracted and eventually passed his guitar off to October. Brent grabbed chopsticks from the kitchen, and the trio made an impromptu band. Ryan finally revealed after being pressed by the others that he was working on his new composition and sporadically grabbed an instrument and played a section. It sounded complicated, and Ethan wondered if he’d be able to keep up.

Brent’s cell phone rang, and he went into the foyer to answer it. Brent’s harried tone caused Ethan to notice the howling winds pounding on the sides of his home, and he shuddered. After hanging up, Brent crisply stated he needed to leave, that the storm was quickly approaching. October and Brent grabbed their coats and were out the door, casting good byes over their shoulders.

“D—Don’t you need to go home, too?” Ethan questioned Ryan.

Ryan’s green eyes rose from his page of handwritten, scattered notes. “You sound eager to be rid of me.”

“Well, it’s not that…but if you get snowed in—”

“You’d be snowed in, too,” Ryan cut off. “And since you’re home alone, I’m much more worried about you. I’ll call my mom. I’m sure she’ll let me stay the night and watch over you.”

Ethan felt a shudder start at the base of his neck and run down his spinal cord. “A—Are you sure? I won’t be a bother?”

Ryan’s eyebrow rose toward his hairline. “Ethan, I’m the one who offered. Besides, didn’t you tell me you were afraid to stay home by yourself?”

Deep red coated Ethan’s face, and he stood up quickly. “I—I never said anything like that!” A sharp gust of wind hit the dead branches of the elm tree outside, and the branches scraped against the side of the house, the tree begging to come inside where it was warm. Ethan sank back down to the couch. “B—But if I’m not going to be a bother, you are more than welcome to stay here.”

A smile brushed Ryan’s face. “I’ll text my mom, then. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” He winked lecherously and added, “Dibs on your sister’s bed.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Whatever, asshole.” But he was really glad he wouldn’t have to spend this night alone. “I’ll start dinner. Anything in particular you’d like?”

Ryan looked like a deer caught in the headlights. There were so many witty remarks. There was the obvious yet always humorous, “Your mom,” yet he could follow with the sister theme and say, “I’d rather eat out…your sister.” Or he could say what he actually wanted—but he didn’t know if he was ready for _that_…

All options considered, he opted with the most boring. “What do you have?”

Ethan realized this was the perfect time to gather inventory of what was in his kitchen. He checked the pantry and sighed in relief. Even if he were snowed in for an entire month, he would have enough food if rationed properly. And even with Ryan there, if they consisted on Ramen alone, they would have enough food for nearly two weeks with three meals a day. He checked the refrigerator and freezer and began scheming about what he could cook.

“How about eggplant parmesan?” Ethan offered.

“Or how about _not_ eggplant?” Ryan countered.

Ethan sighed. Ryan refused to admit he was a picky eater but his school lunches on Wonder bread begged to differ. “How about paella?”

“Or—how about something that I know how to spell?” Ryan began rummaging through the fridge. “You don’t have any Hamburger Helper or Chef Boyardee?”

Ethan sent him a scathing look. “Seriously? I offer you eggplant parmesan and paella, and you ask for Franco-American? Why don’t I just make fucking Ramen?”

Not noticing Ethan’s boiling temper, Ryan answered, “Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s have that!”

Ethan’s hand shot up, and he pointed to the living room. “Go! Sit! Get out of my kitchen! I’m making you bruschetta and tortellini, and you’re going to _like it_!”

“That sounds good, too!” Ryan declared as he was pushed from behind into the other room. He turned around to head back into the kitchen, but Ethan slammed the door closed. “Fine!” Ryan called through the wood barrier. “I’ll stay here! And I’m going to like it, too!”

Ethan leaned against the closed door, sighing. _Bruschetta and tortellini? _He questioned his own logic. Such an expensive meal for someone who probably didn’t know the difference between Prego and authentic Italian cooking. But when he was with Ryan, he somehow lost his mind.

Through the closed door, Ryan could hear Ethan take out a pot, fill it with water, and set it on the stove to boil. He had never noticed before how passionate Ethan was about cooking. Now that he thought about it, he had never been to Ethan’s house for dinner before, much less to stay over. Even though Ethan’s sister was two years older than him and Ryan, Ethan’s mom was always nervous about letting his friends stay over. Given Kim’s track record of secret boyfriends, Ryan admitted that their mom was right to worry.

He stretched out on the couch and glanced at his composition notes. He had always secretly wished for a sibling, but now that he was fully equipped with only child syndrome, he wasn’t sure if he could even handle a puppy. He had a fish once, but it died.

Ryan’s eyes wandered back to the door that separated the kitchen and the living room. He knew he could simply walk around through the dining room and into the kitchen if he so desired, but he felt Ethan wanted some space. His eyes fell back to the paper in his hands, and his fingertips traced the notes and lyrics he had scratched out. Picking up the guitar, he softly strummed the solo after the second chorus.

A smile graced Ryan’s lips as he hummed the lyrics. It was mostly complete, but he wanted to hear the whole thing together before passing judgment. And when it was all pieced together, he would finally say—

“Dinner’s ready!” Ethan called, finally removing the barricade between the two rooms. “Come get it while it’s still hot.”

Hours later, Ethan was listening to Ryan recording pieces of his new composition so see if they fit together. Ethan had even dragged in his sister’s drum set from her room so Ryan could record the drum parts. The only section he refused to record was the vocals.

“I don’t want anyone to hear it yet,” he explained. “The vocals are like the icing on the cake. If your cake isn’t baked properly, what’s the point of icing it until it’s completely perfect?”

So Ethan read magazines while his room and computer were held hostage. Ryan had tried letting Ethan play video games, but the clicking from the controller could be heard in the recordings and Ryan put an immediate stop to it.

Finally, Ryan set down his guitar and took off his headset. “Are you ready for this, Ethan? I think it may be my best composition yet.”

As the piece moved further along, Ethan’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Ryan—this is great!”

Ryan’s face split into a smile. “I’m so glad you think so.” The piece faded, and Ryan’s mumble was heard clearly in the silence. “I wrote it for you,” he whispered.

Ethan’s blue eyes widened, knowing he must have misheard Ryan. “F—For me? Why me?”

Shocked, Ryan quickly cast around for an excuse. “O—Oh, well, I mean… You’re such an instrumental part of the band. You’re the one who—who came up with the name of our band! I felt I should do…something to thank you…”

Knowing he should have expected something of the sort, Ethan still felt his heart sink. For a moment, he had hoped Ryan felt the same way that… “Well, thanks so much, Ryan. I can’t wait to hear the lyrics. Can I read them?” Without waiting for an answer, Ethan grabbed the scrap of paper Ryan had been working on. Almost immediately, Ryan snatched the paper from him—but not before Ethan had glimpsed a few lines.

“D—Don’t read it yet!” Ryan panted, clutching the paper to his chest. “It’s not finished!”

Ethan had never known Ryan to be embarrassed about something he had written. In fact, Ryan had never shown any other emotion apart from complete seriousness about his music. He recalled the words on the paper—

_Light of my life_

_Lift up my heart_

_Only one for me_

Recalling the words, Ethan said the first thing that came to mind. “Are you sure the song’s not about my sister?”

A deep red blush passed Ryan’s face, and he covered his eyes with his hands. His tone held a measure of seriousness that Ethan only heard when Ryan spoke about music. “No, Ethan. It’s not about your sister. I don’t have a crush on your sister. I never will because… Because—” He removed his hands from his eyes and placed them on Ethan’s cheeks. “Ethan, I love you.”

A matching blush spread across Ethan’s body. “O—Oh…”

Ryan stood. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward place. I’ll go now.”

Ethan stared in shock as Ryan left his room and headed toward the stairs. Horrified, Ethan jumped up and ran after him. “Ryan, wait! I—I like you, too!”

Ryan’s face held that of deep sorrow. “Ethan, you’re a really nice kid, but you don’t have to lie to me to spare my feelings. In fact, that kind of hurt.”

“N—No!” Ethan’s hand stretched out to grab Ryan, but the latter had already started down the stairs. “No! Ryan, wait!” _This isn’t how this night was supposed to go!_ “Ryan, I—I really, really like you! I’m not sparing your feelings! Please don’t go!”

Ryan took his enormous winter coat from the coat rack. “I’ll see you later, Ethan.”

Unwarranted anger welled up inside Ethan’s chest, and he grabbed Ryan’s arm roughly. “Damn it, Ryan! Will you listen to me? I’ve liked you for the longest time! I was supposed to tell you I liked you first! Damn it, Ryan, I fucking _orgasmed _while I was on the phone with you last night! And you can’t go home because you didn’t drive, and I’m not letting you walk home in this snowstorm!”

Ryan stood in shock, the door open. Snow had already piled several inches thick on the lawn and bushes. The wind whipped inside, chilling the pair to the bone, and Ryan slammed the door shut. His green eyes met Ethan’s determined blue ones, and he placed his coat back on the rack. “You really like me?”

Ethan shook his head violently, his fists clenched, angry tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “Yes!”

A playful smirk cross Ryan’s lips. “And you…you really orgasmed while we were on the phone last night?”

Ethan turned bright red and took a step backward. “I—I don’t want to answer that question.”

Ryan laughed, and Ethan felt himself calm down. Somehow, they would be okay. Between laughs, Ryan’s playful smirk widened. Ethan’s eyes widened as he saw Ryan lean in closer and closer before their lips finally met, locked. When they parted, Ethan licked his lips curiously. Even though they had eaten the same meal at dinner, Ryan tasted like strawberry.

“You taste like peaches,” Ryan commented with a soft smile.

Not wanting to do more than cuddle, Ryan went upstairs to get Ethan’s thick comforter while Ethan relit the fireplace. They held each other on the couch, watching the flames dance on the walls, the warmth of the comforter encircling them. Their lips touched once more, and Ethan felt his internal walls crumble. He fell limply in Ryan’s lap, pressing his lips more firmly into Ryan’s.

Ryan broke the kiss, smiling. He cupped Ethan’s cheek before leaning back in. His tongue flicked out, brushing Ethan’s lips, which parted in surprise. Ryan’s tongue welcomed the entrance and brushed against Ethan’s own.

A moan broke from Ethan’s throat, and Ryan smirked. Wanting to hear more, he slid his hand under Ethan’s shirt, fingers stroking lightly against his smooth torso. Another moan, and Ethan’s tongue fought back against Ryan’s. Ethan’s cheeks were heating up as his heart raced faster. A guitar string callused finger swept across Ethan’s nipple, and he arched, a deep moan escaping from his chest.

“You’re so vocal,” Ryan murmured in Ethan’s ear.

Ethan shuddered, Ryan’s warm breath sending a chill down his spine. Being apart from Ryan’s lips, he began kissing along Ryan’s smooth jawbone, then to his neck. He sucked lightly on the skin there before smoothing the spot with his tongue. Still Ryan’s hands ran along Ethan’s torso under his shirt, playfully stopping every once in a while to tease his nipples.

“You’re really beautiful,” Ryan murmured. His hand slipped out from under Ethan’s shirt and grabbed Ethan’s chin, pointing their faces together. Ryan leaned forward until their lips barely brushed together. “So beautiful…”

Ethan tossed the comforter to the side and slid his shirt over his head. He pushed on Ryan’s chest until he was laying down on the couch, Ethan crouching over him. Ethan kissed Ryan, their tongues twirling together. Ryan’s hands ran freely across Ethan’s naked torso, pausing to memorize every curve. He tweaked Ethan’s nipple, and Ethan gasped.

Ryan sat up just enough so he could remove his own shirt before laying back down. Ethan’s blue eyes roamed across this well defined torso he had only seen in dreams. While Ethan was thin and lanky, Ryan’s body held obvious muscle definition. Ethan’s eyes paused below Ryan’s navel before roaming down the thin trail of hair leading to a bulge in the pants beyond. Subconsciously, he licked his lips, and Ryan chuckled. He pulled Ethan towards him so that their lips locked once more.

Through their kissing, Ethan could suddenly hear the sound of a zipper. Knowing his still remained (regrettably) in place, his cock jumped at the thought of seeing Ryan’s. He glanced down at Ryan’s straining boxers, his heart pounding even faster.

Ryan let out an embarrassed laugh. “S—Sorry. I don’t know how far you want to go, but my dick can only take so much of pressing against jeans. After a while, it really hurts.”

“Tell me about it,” Ethan mumbled before kissing Ryan again. Glad he didn’t have to make the first move, Ethan stood up and removed his pants completely.

Roughly, Ryan reached out and grabbed Ethan’s hips, bringing them to his eye level as he sat up on the couch. He glanced up at Ethan’s face, but the later had his eyes closed in anticipation. Grinning, Ryan opened his mouth and blew hot air on Ethan’s navel. Ethan shivered and then moaned when Ryan’s tongue caressed his boxers. He curled his fingers tightly in Ryan’s dark hair, shifting his weight to maintain balance as his legs threatened to collapse under him. The tongue continued its journey along the fabric of the boxers, upward until he was licking skin.

Slowly, Ryan pulled down Ethan’s boxers. Eager to continue, Ethan’s cock jumped free from its cage, begging to be licked and touched. And eager to please, Ryan’s tongue traced a trail from head to base and back again. With his right hand, he stroked what wouldn’t fit in his mouth as his tongue revolved around the head and his lips applied varying pressure points along the shaft. With his left hand, he freed his own cock and stroked haphazardly, giving more attention to Ethan’s than his own.

A deep moan escaped Ethan, and he pushed on the back of Ryan’s head, trying to fit his whole cock in Ryan’s mouth. Ryan gagged and pushed back on Ethan’s hips. “Sorry, I can’t fit that much in yet.” Ethan blushed when he added with a smile, “But I’m sure with practice, I can remedy that.”

Tongue tired of only tasting the head, Ryan began licking up and down Ethan’s shaft. His thumb rubbed over the slit at the head, and he smirked when he felt precum there. A few last licks, he said, “I’d better slow down. I don’t want you to finish yet.”

Ryan stood enough so he could kick off his pants before pulling Ethan down to sit on top of him. His cock tapped Ethan’s ass, and blue eyes widened.

“Ah! Ryan, I’m not ready yet—”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan cut off. “I won’t put it in.” His lips kissed away worry, leaving saliva trails across Ethan’s smooth chest. Ethan arched backward, and Ryan asked, trying to sound casual, “But, ah… When would you be ready?”

Ethan rolled forward and placed a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. “As soon as you can get some sort of lube on that dick of yours, because there’s no way it’ll fit inside me as is.”

Ryan groaned in anticipation. “I don’t have any lube on me…”

Biting his bottom lip, Ethan thought for a moment. “Then…just promise you’ll go slow.”

Kissing Ethan’s naked body, he slowly lowered the boy down until he was on his back on the couch. He spat in his hand and coated his head with it as a makeshift lube. Not sure how prepared Ethan would be, he kissed the boy below him as a distraction before pressing his head against him. Slowly, he pressed harder and harder until he was fully inside.

“W…Wait, please,” Ethan panted. He shifted on the couch, and Ryan moaned against the movement.

“Y—You alright?” Ryan gasped.

When Ethan nodded, Ryan slowly pulled out partway before pushing back in. He continued the small movements until Ethan’s uncomfortable look had passed. He pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, eliciting a deep moan from Ethan whose eyes had closed in pleasure.

Ryan’s movements sped up, and he tapped Ethan’s cheek with his finger. “Ethan, open your eyes. I want you to look at me.”

Slowly, Ethan’s eyelids parted, revealing deep blue, a hazy coating of pleasure masking them. Ethan lifted his legs higher, giving Ryan easier access. The slight shift caused Ryan to hit Ethan’s prostate, and he arched backward, moaning, his eyes closing again.

Pounding even harder now, Ryan’s lips latched onto Ethan’s collar bone and sucked. He kissed higher and higher until his lips finally met Ethan’s, their tongues swirling against each other.

“F—Fuck,” Ryan suddenly gasped. “I’m about to cum…”

He grabbed Ethan’s cock and stroked a few times. Ethan’s moans were so loud at this point that they practically drowned out the sound of the storm outside. A few more thrusts, and Ethan came in Ryan’s hand.

Ethan’s eyes shot open. “Ah! Don’t—Don’t get it on the couch…!”

About to come himself, Ryan slipped from Ethan, and he jerked himself off onto Ethan’s chest. Panting, he held up one finger as a signal to wait a minute and came back a few seconds later with a handful of tissues. After cleaning off and disposing of the tissues, Ryan finally collapsed on top of Ethan. The latter groaned under the weight but made no motion to push him off. Instead, he pointed his lips toward Ryan’s ears and whispered, “Thanks.”

Ryan’s eyes cast down at Ethan. “Seriously? I fuck you, and you say ‘thanks?’”

Ethan’s arms encircled Ryan’s waist. “No, I mean…thanks for staying with me. I didn’t want to be home alone tonight.”

Ryan chuckled. “You know… You’re really something.”

Suddenly very sleepy, Ethan grabbed the comforter and pulled it over their naked bodies and closed his eyes. He grabbed the remote for the fireplace and turned off the flames before drifting into a deep sleep filled with naked Ryans and Saturday morning peaches.


End file.
